


Café Noir

by themoonisgay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Ski Resort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Remus is a Barista, sirius needs to chill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 02:15:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6733882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themoonisgay/pseuds/themoonisgay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You mean you’ve been coming here just to pine after me?” Remus asked, eyes twitching. There was no way Sirius was telling the truth. He was probably just joking, another one of his short-lived jokes. That was it. It had to be it. </i>
</p><p>  <i>“Well, not entirely,” Sirius shrugged, “Mostly yes. But the coffee here’s also pretty good.”</i></p><p>  <i>Remus forced a laugh, hoping it sounded real enough. “So I’m just your coffee hoe.”</i></p><p>  <i>“Well, I could call you my ‘coffee hoe’,” Sirius smirked, face alight with mischief, “Or I could call you my boyfriend. Which one will it be?” </i></p><p>Remus Lupin works as a barista at perhaps the least busy café in the world, surrounded by mountains and a tourist-filled ski resort. But when Sirius Black enters his shop one day, his boring job becomes a lot more bearable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Café Noir

Remus bit his lip impatiently. His café was excruciatingly empty today, leaving him alone and unoccupied, which would normally be a blessing, but the book he had brought to work sat motionless at the till; he had finished it hours ago. There was nothing to do. 

With a sigh, Remus leant his head on the counter. He only had seen three customers today and the slowness of the shop was beginning to bore him. Of course it made sense, considering he worked in The Middle of Nowhere, France. And the isolation was probably a good thing; the shop allowed him an escape from the harshness of city living, and Dorcas was good fun.

But they were taking a few days off to visit their girlfriend, so Remus was all alone in their empty café. He dragged a hand through his moppy hair, a sense of exclusion wrapping itself around his mind. It was Boxing Day, and who in their right mind would be out skiing the day after Christmas? Everyone, including Dorcas, was at home, enjoying their new gifts and eating leftovers from the feast the night before. Remus only wished that that happiness, however secular he wished, could extend to him. 

Watching the few skiers walk by his shop at the base of the mountain, he saw one man wearing an atrocious Santa hat over his helmet and groaned. He had hoped the whole commercialized Christmas gag wouldn’t extend to the Alps, but that was an unfortunate mistake. Remus understood none of it.

Growing up Jewish, he had never celebrated Christmas, which was considered a vile treason among his peers. His kippah certainly didn’t help, nor did the obvious anti-Semitism plaguing France. But his mother understood the roaring bigotry of the day and had transferred him to a somewhat less prejudiced boarding school in Wales. That transition hadn’t succeeded in helping him much besides making his accent a motley of Hebrew, French, Welsh, and English. At least he had made a friend in Lily Evans, but she was off in England now and they rarely saw each other outside of Skype.

Although Remus became fluent in English while at boarding school, he still liked to pretend he only spoke French around particularly rude Englishmen. It was a fun pastime in the uneventful world of ski resort cafés. If the shop wasn’t as populated as a desert, he’d probably be annoying his customers right then and there. 

The cling of the doorbell and loud clanking of ski boots across the wooden flooring woke Remus from his reminiscent daydream. The man walked up to the register and took off his helmet, releasing a tide of long black curls. He smiled, an action that shouldn’t have sent Remus’ blooding curling downward as much as it did, and ordered a black coffee in posh English.

“Quoi?” Remus asked, too entranced by the man’s face to recognize he had spoken in English.

“I said, could I have a black coffee?” the man reiterated, but his face didn’t show a hint of annoyance. He actually smirked instead.

“Oh,” Remus blinked. He pulled out a coffee cup and began scribbling down the order. “Sorry, I forgot what language you were speaking for a moment. Do you want any flavoring in your coffee?”

“It’s quite alright. No flavorings, please.”

Remus chuckled as he grabbed a sharpie, “None at all? Interesting choice.”

“Yeah, I’m fine with plain black,” the man said, taking off his gloves and unzipping his coat.

“Right. Well I need your name for your order,” Remus said, absently doodling on the cup.

Looking around, the stranger laughed madly. “But there’s no one else here!”

“Yeah, well, maybe I just said that as an excuse to know more about you. You’ll never know,” Remus grinned slyly.

“Alright, alright. I’m Sirius,” he admitted, scratching his head.

“What?”

“Oh. Right. My name is Sirius, Sirius Black. I didn’t mean I was serious, as in the tone of voice. I’m Sirius, as in the star,” Remus’ customer explained, his tone somewhat dry.

“Riiight,” he droned, unconvinced. Nevertheless, he wrote Sirius down on the cup and surrounded it with messy stars. He walked over to the coffee machine and filled it, steam fogging up his glasses in the process.

“Well, believe what you want, but I can promise you that’s actually my name.” Sirius defended, eyebrows furrowed and donning a cute pout.

Remus set his beverage down on the till and laughed, “Guess you could say you’re acting pretty serious about this.”

“Wow. Never heard that one before,” Sirius proclaimed, clicking the inside of his cheek.

“Good,” Remus said, entering the order into the register, “That’ll be three and a quarter euros.”

Sirius opened his wallet and pulled out a twenty, handing it to the cashier with a smirk. “Keep the change,” he ordered, grabbing his coffee and sitting down nearby.

Remus gaped at the man, who seemed to be ignoring him in favor of staring out the window at the vacant ski slopes. 

Remus walked around the till and sat down across from him, balancing his head in his hands. “Why such a big tip?” he pestered, staring the man down as he took an obnoxiously long sip.

“Honest truth or mediocre lie?” Sirius offered.

Remus stared at him confusedly, “The truth, obviously.”

Sirius placed his drink on the table and hummed. After a few minutes of drifting off, he cleared his throat and replied, “It’s ‘cause you’re hot, really.”

“Oh, really?” Remus asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Mmm, yeah.”

“Something tells me that was the mediocre lie,” Remus crossed his arms.

Remus felt Sirius’ eyes take him in and suddenly felt a bit self-conscious. Sirius opened his mouth again, paused for a moment, and reassessed his claim. “Yeah, that was the mediocre lie. You’re right. You’re not hot.”

Remus felt his shoulders droop and bit his lip angrily. “Right,” he muttered.

“‘Cause you’re super hot, not just regular old ‘hot,’” Sirius exclaimed, proudly raising his head as if he had just discovered a new scientific law.

Remus sheepishly looked up at his unwashed curls hidden underneath his worn beanie. His lopsided sweater and ripped converse didn’t seem all that attractive, nor did his large nose and obvious overbite. “Whatever you say,” he allowed, disbelieving Sirius had any genuine attraction towards him.

“Hey! I’ll have you know my opinion is super important,” Sirius defended, “I once was the deciding vote on a penalty during a footie match.”

“How impressive,” Remus sighed sarcastically, considering just going back to his stool at the till.

“You know I’m going to be your only customer today, right?” the Englishman asked.

“Yeah, and?”

“Why don’t you just make yourself a cuppa and properly join me?” he suggested with a smirk.

Remus stood up and muttered an affirmative “Sure” before returning to the coffee machine. Staring at the machine, he reassured himself that Dorcas wouldn’t mind if he wasted some of their ingredients. He brewed himself a latte and set his mug down on Sirius’ table.

“So, where are you from?” Sirius leaned back and raised an eyebrow.

“A bit west of here, in Midi-Pyrénées,” he informed, taking a small sip of his too-hot drink.

“Really? Anywhere near Toulouse?” 

Remus coughed and muttered, “No. I mean, well, yes. I grew up there, but after my dad died, we moved to Millau.”

“Yeah? How was that?”

“Not great. It was a really small town and my school had a lot of anti-Semitic jerks. My ma ended up transferring me to a boarding school in Wales.”

Sirius furrowed his brows. “Sounds tough,” he said.

“I guess it was,” Remus shrugged.

Sirius downed the rest of his coffee and stood up, sliding his coat on. “Well, I better get going. There’s a lot of empty terrain for me to take advantage of.”

“Of course,” Remus smiled.

Sirius tied his hair into a topknot and pulled his helmet on over it. “It was nice talking, though.”

“Yeah, it really was,” Remus grinned, looking at his geared up friend happily.

Sirius zipped up his coat and smirked. “See you around?”

“Hopefully,” Remus laughed as Sirius walked out.

\---

After leaving the shop, Sirius smiled to himself and hopped onto one of the empty chairlifts. He watched the snow-covered trees pass him as he rode up the mountain, but his mind kept reverting to his last conversation with that barista. His thoughts circling around his cute accent and torn beanie and red flannel and ripped up converse. His hair was an atrocious mess and his eyes spoke of the exhaustion his mouth would never admit. But his smile was genuine, and his dimples charming, and his take-no-shit attitude had Sirius more turned on than any girl ever could. God, was Sirius Black smitten.

He was sure the barista was absolutely uninterested in him, but that wasn’t going to stop him from visiting the café every day until his trip ended. He was just too adorable to pass up, he decided. And the whole ‘uninterested’ thing wasn’t a road block for Sirius; it never was. Everyone always eventually fell for him. Maybe this man just took a little bit of extra work. 

Sirius hopped off the chairlift and skied towards an empty slope. He took off and soared down the mountain, metal skis meeting unpaved ice. The ice was hardly soft at all and the trees were in the most inconvenient of places, but Sirius managed to avoid all obstacles. He sped up, hips rocking left and right as he danced through the mogul bumps. 

The slope steepened and Sirius took that as an invitation to glide aimlessly downward. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and smiled. The wind in his face and the thrill of the fall were what he lived for. 

Sirius opened his eyes and panicked. He muttered a “merde” that got lost in the sound of the wind and sharply turned left, just nearly avoiding a tree. The close miss made him even more ambitious, though; it was the knowledge that he could die at any second that always made his adrenaline speed up. And fuck, did he live on that excitement and uncertainty. 

He skied on, almost flying down a chute. While in the air, he bit his lip until it bled and inhaled the cool frost. The snow and the mountains and the silence, minus the sharp cuts of ski on ice and the roaring wind, were his home. Skiing made him not mind being alone. 

Eventually, Sirius reached the bottom of the mountain and swiftly grinded to a halt. The snow gathered in a slick pile behind him, and when he slid out of his skis, they created parallel indents in the glittery mess. Sirius picked up his equipment, slung them over his shoulder, and headed back to the mostly vacant bed and breakfast he was staying back. When he passed the rustic café, he winked towards the windows. Thinking back, he could have sworn he saw the barista blush in response.

\---

When Sirius walked in the next day, he was wearing a leather jacket and combat boots and absolutely nothing resembling the proper attire for a skier. He pulled a stool from the L-table and sat himself down in front of the till, grinning mischievously at Remus. 

Remus dropped the rag he was holding into the sink, and with a sigh, he asked, “Another black coffee?”

“Aw, you’ve already memorized my order,” Sirius coddled. 

Remus huffed, but nonetheless smiled, as he got to work making his drink. As the coffee machine spat out black coffee into a mug, Remus sat down on his stool. “See we’ve made the till into a table,” Remus observed, looking at the stranger perched on the other side of him. 

“It’s ingenious, I know,” Sirius said, tapping his fingers on the wooden board. “No need to congratulate me, though. I’m already patting myself on the back.”

Remus scoffed, both amused and uneased by his company’s egotistical behavior. “Do you hype yourself up often?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Who doesn’t? It’s only healthy.”

Remus looked down and clenched his teeth together warily. Maybe his apprehension towards Sirius’ comedic and probably exaggerated narcissism was because he couldn’t imagine himself being so confident. But the more he thought about Sirius’ stupid grin and knowing side-eye, the more Remus found himself attracted to that confidence. He kicked himself under the till and looked up again, uttering, “Guess I’m not that healthy, then.” 

He stood up before Sirius had a chance to respond and brought him his coffee from beneath the machine.

Remus sat down and watched as Sirius grabbed the mug and wrapped his hands around it, sipping it slowly. When Sirius finally set the mug down, he cleared his throat and softly replied, “Y’know, if you don’t hype yourself up, I gladly will.”

“What?” Remus stared confusedly at Sirius.

“Well,” Sirius started, “I think you’ve a lovely personality. You’re cynical and sarcastic while still fun to talk to. And your hair is adorable, what with the greasy curls and floppy fringe. Not to mention your beanie, while I’m at it, which is plain brill.” Sirius paused and looked at Remus fondly, “Did you crochet it yourself?”

Remus looked away and mumbled, “Yes.”

“Well, I applaud you. I’ve got a friend who crochets, Peter, and let me tell you, his creations aren’t nearly as good as that beanie. Guess he tries, though, which is probably what matters. Probably.”

Remus chuckled, but said nothing. He hoped his silence would urge Sirius to continue, and it did.

“And that chuckle you just made? God, that’s adorable. Your smile too, it’s gorgeous. And I never thought brown eyes could be so captivating, but one look at yours proves me wrong.”

Remus looked up, staring directly at Sirius. He bit his lip and fidgeted, unsure whether or not Sirius was being genuine or just trying to land a one-night stand. 

“Thanks,” he finally managed, a small smile gracing his lips. Sirius grinned in response, his eyes crinkling and exposing a set of delicate dimples. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he added.

“Not so bad? Why, that’s the biggest understatement of the year, no doubt. I’m flat out gorgeous,” Sirius scoffed, flipping his hair and feigning a dramatic sigh.

“Of course, I apologize for my ignorance,” Remus retorted, a roll of his eyes accompanying a cheeky smirk.

“It’s okay,” Sirius said, landing a hand on Remus’ shoulder and staring into his eyes, “I forgive you.”

Remus burst out laughing, his hair wildly bouncing around as he tried to calm down. “Fuck,” he finally mustered in between laughs, “You’re so full of it, Sirius.”

“Hey, I can be full of you, too,” the skier winked, taking the red blush quickly forming on Remus’ face as his cue to dramatically exit. He grabbed his backpack and sent one finally smirk Remus’ way. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you,” Remus heard his voice crack, still madly blushing from Sirius’ smoothness. Only when the door shut did Remus finally exhale. God, was he smitten. 

\---

Remus was bored out of his mind. There were only so many times he could polish the empty tables and estimate the number of coffee beans in the grinder before he fell asleep. So of course, it wasn’t his fault when he woke to Sirius poking his shoulder. Obviously.

“You alright, sleepyhead?” Sirius grinned, looking down at him. 

Sirius had caught him hunched over on the counter, with his head cushioned by his arms and his knees tucked under his stool. Remus lifted his head and squinted. He scrunched his nose, sat up properly, and smothered the wrinkles in his maroon apron before answering, “Yeah, sorry.”

“‘s no problem,” Sirius gleamed, his eyes crinkling and revealing gorgeous dimples. “But say,” he added with a smirk, “Is your voice always that adorably croaky when you wake up?”

Remus coughed and looked away, hoping that the cold would hide the blush gathering on his cheeks. “I guess so, yeah,” he muttered.

And then Sirius said a sentence that caused an avalanche of blood to ski down to Remus’ lower region. He couldn’t apprehend the exact words, for his brain was in a frenzy, but he assumed the wording was “I wouldn’t mind waking up to that voice every morning.” Remus internally smacked himself for being so easily captivated and sent himself a reminder to do so again later when he looked up and made eye contact with the speaker. His cheeks turned the same shade as his apron.

Sirius was standing there with a rather smug look on his face. And almost as if he knew he was making things worse, he leaned forward and set his elbows on the till. 

Remus sat there speechless, trying to assess the implications of what Sirius had said. Of course he wasn’t being serious, well, as not-serious as someone named Sirius could get, at least. But still, Remus’ mind was racing. Almost no one had taken a liking for him before, what with his measly wardrobe and introverted personality. 

And to think Sirius would suggest a forever with him, a stranger he didn’t even know the name of, was absurd to Remus. Especially considering Sirius’ stunning hair and aristocratic facial structure. His entire presentation, from his posh accent to his smooth talk, screamed that he was way out of Remus’ league. Remus pushed the thoughts of Sirius- his glistening grey eyes, tousled hair, surely athletic body- out of his mind. He had consigned to silently pining.

Sirius cleared his throat, “So?”

“Oh, right,” Remus stood up and grabbed a mug from the shelf. He kept his back turned away from Sirius as he prepared the coffee, hoping his blush would subside by the time he rung up the order. 

From behind him, he could hear Sirius laugh. Remus bit his lip and curtly asked, “Yes?”

Remus could almost feel Sirius grin, like it was enveloping his backside and just urging him to turn around. But Remus stood still and focused on the drink he was preparing instead. If his hands shook slightly, well, Sirius probably wouldn’t notice anyway.

But when Sirius answered him, saying,“Oh, well, it’s just that I hadn’t even ordered a drink, and you’ve already gone ahead and prepared a coffee for me,” with an amused chuckle, Remus spun around. His grip on the half-filled mug tightened, but the quickness of the turn caused a slosh of the hot liquid to escape the mug, and soon enough, his apron was soaked in coffee.

“Fuck,” Remus swore, looking down at his apron. “Guess I didn’t need this coffee anyway, though,” he sighed, setting the mug into the sink. He untied his apron and tossed it onto a stool. 

Sirius laughed. “Now that I think about it, I actually would like a black coffee, if you mind,” he rested his head in his hands, his voice ripe with tease. 

Remus stared him down, eyebrows furrowed and eyes drifting shut. “Really?” he mumbled, mostly to himself. 

“Yeah, of course,” Sirius shrugged, “It’ll give me a better excuse to spend more time here, with you.”

“Right,” Remus assured, putting on a new apron and getting to work. Again.

“So,” Sirius continued nonchalantly, staring at the barista with a no doubt practiced ease, “What’s your name?”

“Remus,” he blinked. “Why?” he added, eyebrows furrowed.

“Guess I’d just to know the name of the man I’ve been pining silently after,” Sirius said, intently watching his fingers twirl a strand of his long hair. 

“Of course,” Remus replied, sarcasm freely rolling off his tongue. Remus set a mug, filled with steaming black coffee, in front of his Sirius and sat down on his side of the till. 

Sirius looked up and seemed genuinely confused, his shoulders hunched slightly and eyes wide. “No, I meant it,” he assured, suddenly sounding a lot more well, serious, than before.

“You mean you’ve been coming here just to pine after me?” Remus asked, eyes twitching. There was no way Sirius was telling the truth. He was probably just joking, another one of his short-lived jokes. That was it. It had to be it. 

“Well, not entirely,” Sirius shrugged, “Mostly yes. But the coffee here’s also pretty good.”

Remus forced a laugh, hoping it sounded real enough. “So I’m just your coffee hoe.”

“Well, I could call you my ‘coffee hoe’,” Sirius smirked, face alight with mischief, “Or I could call you my boyfriend. Which one will it be?” 

“Wow,” Remus breathed. Of all the responses to his snarky comment, being asked out was not one he was expected. “Wow,” he said again, quieter, mostly to himself. Wow. 

“So?” Sirius asked, an eyebrow raised and a tiny glint of something- uncertainty?- in his eyes. 

Remus only shook his head, a grin plastered on his face nonetheless. “Only if you promise me a good first date,” he ordered. 

Sirius looked like he was about to fall off his stool, his chest swooning forward and eyes glowing. “Anything for you, Moony,” he said before dramatically resting a hand over his heart.

“Moony?” Remus raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, because you make me want to jump over the moon,” Sirius beamed. 

Remus huffed, a laugh at the corner of his mouth. “That makes no sense,” he said, resting his hand on the till and smiling faintly. 

Sirius automatically took his hand, intertwining it with his own thin fingers, and squeezed his palm tightly. “Yes, but maybe together, we can make some sort of sense.”

“Save that for tonight,” Remus rolled his eyes lovingly before letting go of Sirius’ hand and grabbing a pen. He quickly jotted down his number on a slip of paper and placing it in Sirius’ palm, which was still lying motionless on the till. 

“Tonight,” Sirius nodded, standing up and putting his ski gear back on. When he was all set, minus his helmet, which rested in between his arm and hip, Sirius leaning across the counter and kissed Remus firmly on the cheek. Remus blushed, grinning widely. 

He waved goodbye as Sirius walked outside with a flourish, suddenly glad he had an empty shop so he could sing cringe-worthy songs, an unabashed smile lingering on his face, until he closed up shop for the night and headed home. He finally had something to look forward to, and damn, wasn’t he glad that that something was Sirius Black.

**Author's Note:**

> This was sitting in my google docs for a while, so I decided to actually polish it up a bit and publish it, hah.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Comments & kudos are always appreciated. :)


End file.
